


Your Lunatic

by Eirenei



Series: Scrapbook Jewels [26]
Category: Bleach, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 11:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eirenei/pseuds/Eirenei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's life with lunatic, called Gin Ichimaru is nor particularly peaceful... but what to do when the said lunatic wants to date you? See how Harry manages that particular challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Lunatic

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Bleach or the song used – I own only this little story. Well, not so little. Yikes.
> 
> Shout Out; Yow! Well, this is it... result of my over – listening to Billy Joel's You May Be Right, pulling all nighters to play chess games – and losing miserably and my frustration with my thesis work. Ta-dah. Here it is. And because some anonymous reviewer kindly chewed out two of my stories, I reiterate. Read. The. Fucking. Warnings. /Serious growl/groan/ I don't write them (warnings,) out for my amusement, and yes, some things I had written may have squicked out the readers, but I posted the warnings for a reason. So. When I warn you about something, I mean it. Thank you for letting me rant out, and thanks to the ones who support me in my crazy way of writing. You rock!
> 
> Warning: This time, it's finished story. AU – verse, and SLASH, meaning Harry Potter /Gin Ichimaru. Curse words and wacky situations. Oh, and Gin is probably a little OOC. Timeline is after Voldemort's and Aizen's defeat. And yes, Gin survived.

* * *

_Friday night I crashed your party_  
Saturday I said I'm sorry  
Sunday came and trashed it out again

_SLAM!_

The door crashed open as a slender youth stormed into the room. If anyone would have seen him, they would have cowered in the face of his anger.

Green eyes flashing, lips twisted in a snarl and hands clenched in fists, twitching to hurt something.

Or better, some _ **one.**_

"Gin, you _BASTARD_!" The youth hollered, the vein on his right temple pulsing slightly.

"Yeh called?" The roared-after person asked lazily, his vulpine face smoothing out in a grinning mask.

Oh, but it was so fun egging that one on...

"Don't ' _Yeh called'_ me, Ichimaru!" The young man barked out, incensed. "What the fuck were you thinking, crashing my party?"

Now named Ichimaru Gin smiled a snakelike grin. "Livin' it up?" He asked innocently – or as innocently as he could.

The green – eyed youth didn't believe him.

"Your version of ' _living it up'_ consisted of perverted remarks, double innuendos and groping my ass – did I forget anything?" He asked sarcastically, while he moved across the room to the still smiling culprit.

"Hmmm... Lemme think." The culprit mock – pondered, his silver hair glinting in the light as he tilted his head just so. He was clad in pale blue tight T – shirt with scruffy jeans and a small black necklace with weird metal ornament hanging on his chest. His right hand had a wide black wristband, and currently, he was barefoot, as was his habit. He was lying on an old brown leather couch – the couch was scruffy and probably old as dirt, but it was still ridiculously comfortable, if you excluded strange scent of cigarette smoke, leather and cat food. (Don't ask.)

There was a dark red carpet on the floor, and a small, knee-high table which was littered with remains from pizza delivery and four cans, three lying about and one still in... use, of root beer.

Green eyes flashed at the display, disgusted. Then, they widened at the book the silver – haired teen held in his hands carelessly.

"Gin..." The teen said calmly.

Gin smiled away. "Yes, Harry?" He asked sweetly, making Harry grind his teeth helplessly, and incurring within him violent desire to throttle Gin.

One Harry James Potter was officially the favourite toy to poke, prod, tease and grope, owned by one Ichimaru Gin.

"Is that _MY_ book?" The teen, now known as Harry, asked calmly.

Closed eyes widened for a small margin, as the silver brown jumped up. "Uh..." Gin squeaked out. "Um... Maybe?"

Harry had to inhale deeply not to explode at his rather mischievous flatmate.

He should have been used to it.

Unfortunately for Harry, Gin always, always, _always_ found something that pressed Harry's red buttons. Harry would have transferred to any other flat – really, he had begged the administration to get him the hell away from the fox-faced, silver – haired menace that masqueraded on the student campus under the name Gin Ichimaru, but no such luck. Apparently, the administrator, had, upon Harry's rather incensed announcement of intending to switch the flatmates, received the petition of the entire campus, not to let Harry switch under the pain of death – apparently Gin was roomie from Hell, and nobody wished to be on the silver demon's black list just because the said silver demon managed to piss off the one person that was brave – or insane enough to room with him.

Moving away to some apartment didn't work. Gin always found him, and somehow, Harry always found himself agreeing to return back into their flat with the ominous number 666 written – or better, scrawled onto the front door. It was meant as a joke, but Gin, twisted fucker as he was, unfortunately appreciated it, and the stupid scribble stayed, and no one – not even inspectors – dared to say anything against the desecration of public property.

"Nevermind." Harry waved the topic away calmly, making Gin quietly sigh in a relief. Harry was rather possessive of his books, and Gin having to sneak one or another away was usually overlooked by the green – eyed teen, but woes betide Gin if he had tried to touch his flatmate's _'special'_ books. When he had done the heinous deed the first time, Harry almost rained the fire and brimstone on his head, going so far as to chasing Gin out of the apartment for three days before calming down and allowing him back in. Ikkaku, Kenpachi and Ichigo, along with Shiro had been roaring with laughter when they heard about it, much to Gin's pouting, but the fact remained, Gin terrorised his way in - Harry may have had peace those three short days, but not without frequent ... visits of the campus members begging him to take the hellspawn back in, even going so far as offering reimbursement for the book Gin so callously used as a makeshift plate for pizza slices.

What? It was handy!

"So tell me... again, why did you have to crash my party." Harry continued calmly, "While I expressively forbid you to come, to happen upon, to pop up, to just visit, et cetera. Well?"

Gin looked at Harry's expectant face, but Harry's tapping foot reminded him that his flatmate's temper was on short fuse already.

Even _Rangiku_ wasn't as scary as Harry was when he was waiting on Gin to defend his misdeeds.

_Eek._

"Um... Sorry?" Gin offered meekly, while he shrugged. Arched dark eyebrow and disbelieving glare prompted him to try again.

"But I was _booored!"_ Gin whined out, pouting. "Ya weren't there, my pals were away, Ran-chan was consorting with the stick-in-the-mud Kuchiki, and I – I just _missed_ you!"

Harry sighed. That was the crux of the matter... as always. Gin was a genius, and his studies were apparently too easy for him – although Harry for the life of him couldn't figure out just why Gin didn't accept the offers for elevating him up in the education process yet. It was frustrating, and on some part, touching that Gin stuck with him, despite of his superior abilities, but...

The pissing contests really weren't worth it. Sometimes, Harry wondered, just why he didn't have gray hairs yet. Wait, he did – last morning, he found three new ones, and Hermione, curse her sadistic little soul, had pulled five out of his poor scalp, disregarding his yelps of pain just yesterday.

What? It _hurt!_

Green eyes stared at the silver – haired male. Who appeared to be appropriately contrite, at that.

Harry sighed. "Alright." He grumbled out, making Gin smile at his little victory. "Now, gimme back my book – I know you've read it at least three times over. And I need it for my assignment."

Beaming, Gin tossed it back to Harry, who caught it effortlessly.. "Here ya go. What will be for dinner?" Gin asked, grinning.

Despite of still being irritated, Harry couldn't help but smile at his fox-faced friend.

"You in mood for pasta with tomato sauce and chilli meatballs with green salad?

Gin's grin widened to impossible proportions. "Hell yeah... Have I told you I love you?" He asked, making Harry snort with amusement.

"Down, boy." Harry teased back, making Gin pout and grumble.

It was shaping to be a calm conclusion of Saturday evening.

* * *

Sunday, the same week. Harry was just listening to Seamus' excited retelling of one of him more... raunchy adventures in Auror training, laughing helplessly at the funny bits when –

"Hiya, folks. Who wants some beer?" An annoyingly familiar voice chirped from the kitchen.

Harry's spine stiffened.

' _Don't you_ _dare_ _to show your fox-faced mug in here...'_ He mentally growled at the culprit.

Besides, shouldn't Ichimaru have gone off to some famous lawyer's courses or something?

Alas, Gin wasn't telepathic, for all the proofs on contrary, and the silver – haired bastard entered with a plate, loaded with tins of root beer and snacks, with an innocent – _yeah right_ – grin on his fucking face which Harry intended to smash into smithereens just after -

"Awww, Harry! Why didn't you tell us you have such a _hunk_ for a roommate?" Lavender exclaimed, her big eyes roving over Gin's body greedily.

"Because he's a jerk." Harry growled out, making Gin pout and the women glare at Harry. "How could you say that about him?" Susan reprimanded him, pinching the skin on his left biceps rather harshly and making Harry yelp. Harry glared at her when she turned away from him and smiled at Gin. "Don't mind him, Gin; he's just jealous you are so awesome and he's not," she stated kindly, as she moved to help Gin unload the tray, and then kissing him on the cheek.

"Aww, ya flatter me, darlin'." Gin mock-swooned, much to Susan's amusement and Harry's helpless annoyance.

Ron caught Harry's eyes and nodded sympathetically.

For some reason, whenever they had a party, Gin appeared, him being a Muggle notwithstanding.

It was weird.

It was annoying.

It was downright _creepy._

But hell yeah, it would be hella fun.

* * *

 _I was only having fun_  
Wasn't hurting anyone  
And we all enjoyed the weekend for a change

In the Monday morning, Harry glared at his... sleeping companion half – heartedly. Against his best efforts, Gin had managed to insinuate himself among his friends and ex-classmates, and what was the worst, the fucking douche-bags unintentionally broke the Statue of Secrecy. Harry knew that Gin wasn't normal – he was way too creepy and weirdo for that, but the silver-haired son of a bitch somehow managed to circumvent all rules and regulations – and what was the worst, Harry didn't know how!

He had to admit to himself – they had fun the party was awesome, and the flat was disaster zone – but nothing that some wand – waving couldn't fix.

Ah, the joys of magic cleaning...

Harry sighed as he looked at Gin again. The man was still in his black sleeveless shirt and deep gray skating pants – well, no skating pants, but in deep red boxers with the yellow snitch stitching on the crotch – Harry had to flush at the image.

Gin's body was long, lean and muscled on the right spots. He had pale skin with some intriguing scars which gave him appearance of dangerous individual, but with his soft, pale skin and calm face, which was curiously devoid of the customary fox grin, Gin seemed like personification of innocence.

Even if said _'innocent'_ individual filched the boxers form Harry's stash of gag gifts he had received through the years.

For some reason, the boxers and snitch amused Gin – Harry nearly got a heart attack when he first saw just where his favourite boxers ended - but no amount of reclaiming, threats and faulty items diverted Gin from regularly snatching the boxers and wearing them, with Gin cheerfully proclaiming that they were his lucky item.

Harry nearly died from embarrassment when one of the flat mates – it was a cheerful girl, half Hispanic and half – African, petite with red and yellow cornrows for hairstyle- came in their flat in the middle of their little argument just whose were those particular boxers, and of course, she totally got the wrong picture.

Rebecca – or Becky, or Becks, as they called her, quickly drummed around the campus about their... shall we say, involvement, and no matter how hard Harry tied to deny it, the rumours remained, and when Harry, in his frustration, demanded of Gin to help him disprove the rumours, the damned fox-face cheerfully fuelled the fire.

It was said – or known, that the two were a pair, despite of them not being a pair – just flatmates, if Harry had any said in it.

And no, the mistletoe kiss didn't count.

He had also kissed Mark – tall, tanned blond with deep blue eyes and stone face, who was also a linebacker for his university, and they didn't end together – even if the kiss had been nice.

It didn't help that whenever Harry had a ... date of sort, Gin managed to ruin it, in one way or another.

Even Remus – the traitor – remarked how good they were together; even if he believed Harry they were just friends.

Yeah...

Harry closed his eyes, sighing.

Just.

_Friends._

He failed to see those closed eyes open to reveal burgundy red orbs who looked at him affectionately, and more than a little bit possessively.

* * *

 _I've been stranded in the combat zone_  
I walked through Bedford Stuy alone  
Even rode my motorcycle in the rain

Gin grinned his insane, wide grin, as he kicked down the fuckers who badmouthed Harry. The bastards thought to nicely – not – maul Harry just because he was involved with another man – but unfortunately, they didn't count on Gin to be that particular man Harry was – supposedly – in relationship with.

All in all, Gin and Harry were an infamous through the student campus – Gin because he creeped everything and everyone out, along with being a genius, and Harry because he lived with the said creepo without any stupid consequences – i.e. broken bones, concussions, mental breakdowns, et cetera. Since Harry had came to live with Gin, the campus was calmer place, even if the residents had to bear with Harry's fits of temper over Gin's misdeeds over some or other thing, but otherwise, life was good.

"Now listen to me, dumbass." He grabbed the ringleader of the thugs for the nipple ring and yanked, making the man yelp with pain. "Leave Harry alone and I won't kick yer asses to loony bin." The slits opened, revealing dark red eyes with glint of ice blue glinting through them.

The thug leader shuddered. The silver – haired dude had creepy red eyes and it didn't help that he had managed to effortlessly kick the shit outta him and his gang, even if they were armed with knives, spikes and whatnot.

"Wha's tha' to ya, punk?" He growled out, in his last ditch effort of idiocy.

Gin smiled.

And it was not a nice smile – it was the smile he reserved for when he was kicking the shit out of Aizen's Espada grunts.

It was sharp and absolutely chilling in intensity.

"'Oh? Didn't I tell ya? I'm Ichimaru Gin, and Harry is mine. So back off, _bitch_."

The thug leader paled chalk white.

This – this slender, twig – like dweeb was – was the infamous silver demon!

The lightning and thunder in the background didn't help in lessening his terror.

* * *

Gin watched the idiots scamper away, his eyes slowly closing to his customary half – moons.

He sighed.

This joke of his was no good.

Hell, he knew that Harry wasn't his - no matter how much he wished the green – eyed man would be - but it was nice to pretend.

It was nice to piss off the man, making him all huffy and puffy – even if Gin sometimes came close to death with his stunts –

Because pissing off someone as powerful as Harry just wasn't advisable, even if Gin was confident in his abilities to at least hold his ground against the wizard somehow.

Not that he ever tried his little theory in reality, of course.

But it would be nice.

Maybe... someday.

Rukia did say that Harry had massive potential in Reiatsu, after all.

Gin sighed. The rain began to fall, wetting his clothes, but he didn't care.

He fixed a massive, psychotic grin on his face.

He opened the cell phone and pressed on the speed dial.

It was time to piss off Harry some more.

* * *

 _And you told me not to drive_  
But I made it home alive  
So you said that only proves that I'm insane

Harry nearly got a heart attack when he found out about Gin's plans.

First, Gin accidentally missed his train.

Second, he was mobbed by thugs.

Okay. Harry could stomach Gin being late, and he learned that thugs had nothing on the crazy silverette.

"But how will you come home, then?"

"Aw, don' ya worry yer lil' head, Sparky,"  Gin's voice cackled through the phone.

"I'll drive."

Harry made an agreeing noise in the back of his throat, before he caught himself.

"In that rain?" He asked doubtfully, as he looked out of the window. There was a veritable hailstorm outside, and driving in such conditions –

"Ayup." Gin's voice was cool as cucumber, and cheerful as fucking sunshine.

Harry's Gin sense began tingling. Meaning, Gin was up to something crazy, and that ' _something crazy'_ couldn't end well.

"Gin," He said calmly. "Please don' tell me you are driving a car _."_

For all his genius, Gin was absolutely dismal with handling vehicles.

"Nope," Gin's voice was entirely too cheerful.

Harry got a really, really bad feeling.

"I'm driving a motorcycle."

Harry blanched.

" _GIN!"_

* * *

Nervously, he waited on the front porch, muttering threats under his breath. It was dark, the clock was something half past ten in the night and the batshit – insane idiot Harry called his friend, was traipsing around on motorcycle.

Alternatively, Harry was praying and cursing.

' _Just let Gin come home in one piece... Please.'_

Finally, he heard the noise of a motorcycle in the distance.

Heedless of the rain, he bolted out, and sure, there he was.

" _YOU BLOODY IMBECILE!"_ Harry roared as he saw just which motorcycle Gin managed to snatch out.

Gin's cheesy grin became wider. "Aww, darling, I knew you missed me but," He dramatically put his hand on his chest. "You wound me with your unkind words. I came home safely, didn't I?"

Harry didn't know whether he wanted to laugh, cry or throttle the idiot to death.

Instead, he shook Gin fiercely.

"Hope to _high Hell_ that my Godfather's 'cycle is without _tiniest_ scratch," He hissed out, making Gin blanch in stark terror.

"And," Harry continued with calm voice, "We will have words about you driving... habits. Honestly, " He huffed out as his green eyed darkened with annoyance. "Please tell me at least that no bobby caught your drunken traipsing you call driving through the streets."

Gin scratched his head sheepishly.

"Um, well... About that..."

This time, Harry didn't fight the urge to face palm.

He grabbed Gin's hand and yanked him into the house, not minding the peanut gallery one whit.

Gin was incredibly tense about the damages done to Harry's precious motorcycle for three or four days...

... Well, Harry didn't tell him that the motorcycle was enchanted against such things.

Served him right, the insane idiot.

* * *

 _You may be right_  
I may be crazy  
But it just might be a lunatic you're looking for

Harry smiled at his date uncomfortably. Not that it was anything wrong with the date – oh no, the man was nice and gentleman and they could hold an intelligent conversation, but in comparison with Gin's crazy persona, Harry couldn't help but feel as if he was missing – or better, forgetting something.

Or someone.

A shadow settled over the table, and the man's gray eyes sharpened minutely.

"Lookie what the cat brought in," A familiar voice drawled out just behind Harry's back. "But I must confess, I was surprised you could even haul your ass up for somethin' like a date, _Primera_."

The scruffy man tilted his head, like a curious wolf. "Ah, Gin. I didn't think I would meet you in the living world." A slow smirk made Harry's neck prickle with feelings of dread.

"So you two have a history, Starrk?" He asked mildly, trying to diffuse the situation.

Instead of that, Harry could swear he had seen lighting flash between the grinning fox-face and the lazy wolf... and he had no clue why.

But if he knew anything, the things were due to go south... as they always did at this state.

Even if he had a premonition that Coyote Starrk would be more than a decent opponent against his lunatic protector.

Sighing, he resigned himself to the unenviable fate of having one more failed date to go through. This was... what – his fiftieth?

Yup.

* * *

The walk home was quiet. Harry was still seething over Gin and Starrk having made a mess in the restaurant. Apparently, Gin managed to successfully needle the _'Primera'_ \- Harry made a mental note to ask Gin what did that meant – and lo and behold, the restaurant, when they finished with their little pissing contest, was worse than a Swiss cheese. They broke tables and chairs, tore through the walls and successfully terrified the customers into mass exodus, just to flee the killing intent the two of them emanated. The only one, who remained in the war zone, was Harry.

When he finally stopped the two combatants, it was already too late. The restaurant was in shambles, and they were put on the black list of the restaurant - and Harry mourned that fact. This restaurant was his favourite, and to be banned away was a capital offense to his attempted peaceful lifestyle of living.

Let's not mention the property damage he would have to pay for.

All in all, the evening had been ... exciting, even if it hadn't been in the context Harry had wished it would have been.

"Why did you do that?" He asked the still seething Gin.

Both of them were walking back to the campus. They could have gone on a bus, but Harry decided to go on foot, to cool his head and temper. Right now, he didn't want to be in a mass of people.

Gin mumbled something under his breath.

Green eyes narrowing, Harry looked at his wayward friend. "Gin..." He muttered out, exasperated. "Let's face it – whenever I am getting the date, you somehow show up and _ruin_ it. I could understand that Yoruichi chick was a bit... over the top – "

He ignored Gin's outraged squawk of _"- A bit!"_ \- as he continued. "Mary – Kate was kind and gentle, and we had a grand time, but when you pop up, she blanched and excused herself. I don't know what you have done to her, but a day later I got cell phone message that she was sorry, but she didn't think she could date me." He rounded on Gin, staring into his still closed eyes. "And let's not even _mention_ when my colleagues invited me to party – "

"Good thing I showed up, then," Gin cut him off coolly, his face, for once, serious. "You could have been in a nasty shit – "

"The point _is,_ "Harry intentionally used louder voice, "You are for some reason sabotaging my dates, and I want to know _why_!" They now stared face to face at each other, with Harry having to crane his head up a little to see the silver – haired idiot properly.

"I have the right to stay silent," Gin returned, without missing the beat.

A tense moment of silence twanged between the duo.

Harry sighed. "Okay," He mumbled. "Then why are you so pissy when I am trying to date males?"

One silver eyebrow twitched.

' _Aha! Gin is breaking!'_ Harry thought in triumph. It was a rare sign, but Harry just knew when Gin was at the end of rope of patience. Oh the perk of being the best male buds...

"Starrk was okay – "Harry continued, only to be interrupted with a growl.

And he found himself staring in furious garnet red eyes. "He was _NOT_ okay!" Gin spat out, his teeth flashing in an annoyed snarl. Slender fingers twitched for his trusty Zanpakuto, only to remember where he was. And why.

Harry lost it. "That's not about Starrk!" He finally exploded. "Why the fuck don't you want me to date anyone!"

" _BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO DATE ME!"_ Gin finally hollered back in Harry's stunned face.

* * *

Harry was gobsmacked.

_Gin... wanted to date him?_

Seriously?

"Gin..." He whispered, only for those garnet eyes to close, but Gin's face was still serious – so serious it was almost scary. "That was what you wanted to know, wasn't it?" Gin bit out, his voice tight with tension. Harry gulped as Gin turned away, the very image of the mollified fox.

"I – I didn't know," Harry tried to tell Gin, only to be waved away with a scoff. _"You_ didn't _know?"_ Gin snarled out. "What are you, stupid? I am a laughing stock among my – people for that stupid, idiotic obsession with you, and you tell me you didn't know!"

He rounded back on Harry, who stepped back. "I was leaving you clues front, back, left, right and centre, even going so far as to letting that stupid rumour to circulate around, but _noo..."_ He exhaled a sharp sigh. He visibly reined his emotions back.

"Now you know."

Harry was left to helplessly stare at the slender back of his friend as Gin turned around and strode away, his silver hair reminding Harry of shimmering veil of tears.

* * *

 _Turn out the light_  
Don't try to save me  
You may be wrong for all I know  
But you may be right  


Harry came back to their flat, his head still reeling from Gin's revelation.

" _BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO DATE ME!"_

Gin's voice reverberated loudly in his brains, stuck on repeat.

He looked at their living room. At first, it was Gin's room, but the mischievous man somehow managed to persuade Harry to change it into living room, which also doubled as their study place... meaning, the two of them slept in Harry's room.

Harry groaned in mortification. "Gin was right... I am stupid." He closed his eyes as he rubbed his left temple wearily.

The signs were right in front of his nose... but he stubbornly overlooked them, thinking that his lunatic friend was just overly affectionate fellow, conveniently choosing to overlook the fact that Gin was nowhere near that touchy with any of his ... people. Heck, Harry even remembered when Ichigo's father attempted to glomp him, Gin used some kind of martial arts to pile drive the idiot headfirst into the wall, regardless of the good intentions the man may have had.

The only one Gin allowed even a modicum of non-violent contact with his person was that busty woman, Rangiku, and even then –

Harry gulped.

In a span of one hour, Harry's world had been spun off of its axis so bad it was comparable with the shock when he found out about him being a wizard.

Being a wizard... he had easily coped with that.

But having his best male friend in love with him...

Was a whole another shebang.

Now... Just what should he do with that... information?

Harry admitted it was pretty cozy, having Gin so close and at hand, but... was he prepared to risk such a great relationship just because Gin... loved him?

Well, maybe not loved, but Gin's obsession was not anything else... Was it?

Harry plopped himself down on the worn out leather couch, Gin's favourite spot. He raked his hand through his hair.

Gin's expression when he said... that, was so serious, so passionate –

For a lunatic that made Harry more often than not crazy with anger and fuming at Gin's quirky antics...

Harry closed his eyes. He still remembered their first meeting _._

* * *

 _Remember how I found you there_  
Alone in your electric chair  
I told you dirty jokes until you smiled

It was just after the war. The things had been batshit insane - Harry never would have thought that the war could be so convoluted. Allies changed into enemies, and enemies became allies, sometimes in a matter of moments. He was just lucky he had his friends and...Well, he was just plain lucky, after all. But right now, he didn't have his friends along for a ride – Ron decided to bask in the fame, Hermione was trying to get her neo-liberal movement for freeing the house elves into motion, Luna - last he heard, she was searching with Neville for Crumple – Horned Snorkacks somewhere in Ireland, Blaise and Daphne decided to elope, Seamus was still in St Mungo's – he was one of the casualties in that last skirmish with Voldie and his Death-Chowders. Harry would have been in Mungo too, except he didn't want any fussing over the poor, battered hero, and so, he hightailed it put the fastest way he knew how.

And right now, that meant sulking on the bar stool, like it was an electric chair, in all his scruffy glory. Well, at least he was clean and his clothes were good enough to blend into the crowd. His right side still twinged – some asshole was near enough to graze him with a weakened _Sectusempra,_ but nothing that a potion and a good dose of sleeping for two days wouldn't fix.

It was dark enough, but still not late enough for the bar to close. The so-called quiet hour, before the patrons began coming in droves.

Harry muttered something distinctly unflattering under his breath when he was roughly jostled in his shoulder.

Harry growled at the biting pain. "Watch the fuck out where are you going!" He bit out at the offender.

"Buyin' you a drink counts?" The voice asked cheerfully, making Harry swivel his head around to catch a look at the offender.

Green eyes, shadowed with darkness blinked dumbly, as he saw silver – haired man, grinning at him, his closed eyes making him look like a mischievous fox.

The man was clothed in baggy dark blue skater trousers and black, body – hugging jumper with a set of dog-tags glinting on his chest. All in all, he looked like some kind of those wannabe hip-hop singers, and yet, he was something... Different.

Dark eyebrow quirking up, Harry sneered. "Of course. Would be a shame if you lost sense of direction."

The stranger chuckled at his sarcastic remark. "Then it's already too late, because I am lost in your eyes. Mind tellin' me how can I get out of them?" Meanwhile, he waved to the bartender to bring him a drink. "Oi, gimme _Manhattan,_ and for him, _Sex On The Beach!"_

Harry choked in his modest Siberian Sunrise. "You have some nerve!" He sputtered out, his cheeks flushing with anger. The man just grinned wider, his eyes still closed. "Tha' I do, "He agreed mildly, cocking his head on the side lightly, as if Harry's reaction amused him.

Probably it did, the fucker.

Harry growled. "You're feeling mighty lucky tonight, aren't you?" He growled out, hiding his mouth behind the glass.

"'Course I am, "The man readily agreed, his grin morphing in a small smirk. "Ya're still talkin' wit' me, aren't ya?"

Harry couldn't help but snort at the silver-haired man's audacity.

Even as deep in the funk as he was right now, his strange, funny new friend eased his worries somehow, even if he was irritating Harry's tender sensibilities most of the time. Harry had came in the bar to drink hid weight in alcohol – metaphorically speaking, caring not about him technically still being a minor.

But hell, what was magic good for, if not taking advantage of?

Besides, it wasn't anyone business how he decided to celebrate or sulk away the fact he had finally managed to kill the ol' Snakefart for good.

The bartender kept the drinks coming, and slowly but surely, Harry began to enjoying the evening _._

* * *

 _You were lonely for a man_  
I said take me as I am  
'Cause you might enjoy some madness for a while

The next morning, Harry woke up with the headache of the size of Texas. He groaned as he rolled around in the bed, snuggling in hard, warm ...body.

Blinking dumbly, he hissed a curse in Parseltongue as the light practically raped his eyes when he cracked his eyelids open.

The amused chuckle under his head didn't reassure him.

"Wakey wakey, sleepin' beauty," The male voice teased him, making Harry cringe and hiss in annoyance. "Call me _sleeping bitch_ again, and I will tear out yer vocal cords," He mumbled out, trying to tuck his head somewhere far, far away from headache.

There was a small pause, as if his... whoever he was, couldn't believe what Harry had said.

Then, the man exploded in laughter.

' _Okay, that was it.'_ Harry was definitely annoyed now, and he needed his dose of anti – hangover potion right now.

Blood-shot green eyes looked at the mirthful face of the annoyance that was stealing away Harry's rightfully deserved sleep.

The Saviour of the Bloody Wizarding World blinked dumbly. "Huh?" He asked. "Who are you?"

The man grinned. "Why, I am hurt, "He mock-sniffed. "First you threaten me to tear out my vocal cords, and now you don't remember me, after all that wonderful sex we had – "

The _S_ – word catapulted Harry right out of the bed, much to the amusement of his makeshift human pillow. "We _what?"_ He rasped out, his eyes wide.

The man laughed again. Harry had to admit, he had a very nice laugh, but right now, someone was driving proverbial ice picks in his brains, so he didn't manage to appreciate it as he should have to.

"I'm Gin Ichimaru, at your service," The man mock-saluted him, his grin making Harry feel butterflies in his stomach. "And relax; I jus' carried ya over in my flat an' let you sleep it over."

Harry's stomach dropped.

And those butterflies in his stomach were just the said stomach rebelling against its contents.

He spent at least half an hour worshipping the toilet goddess, before he was in any shape or form to strangle the idiot.

* * *

If Harry had thought he was free of the dumbass, he had to revise his belief. Somehow – Harry didn't know how, but Gin had something Zaraki's daughter, Yachiru, called Harry-sense. Meaning, Gin could track Harry out, no matter what Harry had done to prevent himself to be found.

One of such instances was, when Harry holed himself into Grimmauld Place one evening – and lo and behold, the next morning, he found one irritating annoyance, called Ichimaru Gin cheerfully puttering about in his kitchen.

Harry nearly had a heart attack that morning.

And all of his covert ... questionings didn't help him out about finding just what was his new funny friend.

After a month of cajoling, whining, and following from Gin's side, Harry had finally caved in, consenting to move in with Gin.

It had required pulling a couple of strings – after all, changing his learning certifications in right forms, not to mention catching up with the help of Memory Balls had been a bitch to do. Harry's Occlumency lessons helped, along with Temporal Field, but that took out a great chunk of his magical reserves, making Gin think he had some kind of an illness, and his friends cheerfully encouraged his venue of thought.

Although, it was curious. After they got to know Gin, Hermione confessed to Harry that Gin's aura, for the lack of better word, was creepy. Not like Voldemort's, but something more... sinister. Harry just blinked dumbly at his long – time friend's concerns. Gin was normal. True, sometimes he was a douche bag, what with his poking fun at Harry and everyone else, but he was normal... wasn't he?

In such moments, Harry dearly missed Luna. The spacey girl could explain just what was going on – even if she used her weird metaphors of invisible animals to illustrate the point.

When he had woke up after one of his nightmares, he found Gin sitting at his bed, glaring at him with his garnet red eyes. "Why didn't you tell me you have nightmares?"

Harry cringed at the serious expression on Gin's face. "Um... It was none of your business?" Even if he tried to bit the answer out, it managed to get out as a meek question instead.

A moment of silence, and then –

"Budge over." Gin demanded, making Harry blink at him owlishly.

"Huh?" Harry asked dumbly.

"You can't sleep. I can't sleep. So – the logical solution would be, that we will sleep together." At the end of Gin's explanation, the silver – haired man's face was in his customary grin, and Harry had to resist whacking the idiot's face with the pillow.

Even if he was grateful to the prat.

And if Harry thought it was one – time occurrence, he was sorely mistaken.

Because Harry was too proud for his own good, Gin challenged him to a poker and made Harry – after first few successful rounds – lose spectacularly. Gin's payment was simple – sleeping with Harry.

Harry nearly hyperventilated at first, but Gin just grinned and explained he didn't mean it in biblical sense. Not ' _getting to know each other intimately'_ one, at any rate. But just plain sleep, snoozing and snoring included, but not actively encouraged.

Harry had been mortified over his premature jumping to _(wrong)_ conclusions, whacking the snickering Gin in the face with a handy pillow and threatening him with no persimmon pies.

That silenced Gin mighty fast and making Harry smirk smugly.

* * *

 _Now think of all the years you tried to_  
Find someone to satisfy you  
I might be as crazy as you say

Gin hung his head. ' _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.'_ He was a monumental fool to think that Harry had any kinds of feelings for him.

But...

Since that evening...

Gin had been crazy for Harry.

He chuckled a sad, sardonic sound. It was funny... everyone thought that if anyone, the one Gin would give his love to, it would be Rangiku.

However, Rangiku was only his friend. Best friend – arguably one, since Harry became his friend too, and with Rangiku being wooed by that prissy Kuchiki clan head... Harry essentially replaced Ran-chan as best friend in Gin's heart.

Actually, that night, Gin intended to get straight to his flat, intending to bug his roommate a little bit more.

Well, it was fun to make them snap.

Shiro, Kurosaki's Hollow, agreed with Gin's sentiments, and even helped with the mental part of torture.

But this energy... Gin had unintentionally stopped, and allowed his legs to follow to that beacon of... seduction.

It wasn't like Ichigo's reiatsu, although Gin would admit that the Kurosaki brat had one of the most potent reiatsu feels around. Well, except for Zaraki and Aizen.

This energy was more subtle, like a sheer veil, that was hinting and beckoning onto something more...

Someone bumped into him, just when he was at the source of the energy, making him surprised enough to unceremoniously bump into the man.

Well, not man, but a teen.

A teen with most vivid green eyes, full of life, although those dark, emerald gems also held the knowledge of death.

Gin caught himself from making a social blunder with offer of a drink – _'Sex On The Beach',_ was it? It was Rangiku's favourite, if he remembered correctly. The teen jibed back something about Gin feeling mightily lucky tonight, and Gin had to agree.

And then, it was only the matter of keeping the conversation alive.

They talked, Gin made the teen laugh – Harry, as he found the teen's name was, had beautiful laugh – a little scratchy, so it sounded like purring of a great feline, and yet, it was strangely airy sound Gin could listen to for eternity.

His wallet was greatly thinned at the end of the night – the cocktails weren't for free, after all, but he was rewarded by snoozing Harry in his arms.

It had been all too easy to track the teen down and convince him to stay with Gin.

Gin growled low in his throat as he remembered the cause of his bummed out mood.

Harry just _HAD_ to get out on date with Starrk, didn't he?

Usually, Gin was tolerant of the _Primera_ Espada, and Starrk was likewise tolerant of him. But Starrk had made a mistake of treading on the turf that wasn't his – namely, attempting to claim one Harry James Potter. Harry was Gin's and Heaven help any foot who thought otherwise.

With Harry being as dense as he had been, Gin's patience was finally snapped. True, he sabotaged Harry's dates – at first, it was, because some of the people Harry intended to date were gold-diggers and scumbags, but he didn't blind himself for long.

Gin wanted Harry to be his... but how to get the thick-headed dumbass to recognize that fact?

Gin had done it all – marking his territory, with hugging Harry, pinching his derriere, teasing him and snuggling the said man, letting circulate around rumours of Harry's ineligibility, kissing Harry – the last one was not a success, blast that Mark fellow - and then, the cherry on a proverbial top of shit, the confession.

The silver – haired man couldn't help but growl to himself, getting some spooked looks from the witnesses.

If every dog had his day, this one surely wasn't Gin's.

And now, he could look forward to the tense atmosphere in their apartment, Harry eyeing him weirdly, or worse, Harry avoiding him... Oh the joys.

Harry's dumbfounded look still hurt Gin. Rationally, he knew he shouldn't have been angry with Harry, but he was fed up with Harry's attempts of searching after someone with whom he could spend the rest of his life, and leaving Gin in proverbial dust. Of course, Harry wouldn't really do that, but Gin was possessive of things and people he deemed his, and Harry became his most precious and coveted possession.

In fact, right now...

Gin looked at the small park he unconsciously trekked in while he contemplated his unenviable situation.

It was their park.

His and Harry's.

Where they could be crazy, Harry chasing after Gin, because the silver – haired shinigami stole the last piece of dried persimmons – Gin had hooked Harry on the stuff, and there was always a jar or two of dried persimmons, either sliced or whole ones, in their flat.

How Harry growled at Zaraki when the brawler called him shrimp, and promptly electrocuted him, much to that Quincy – Ishida's amusement.

How the green – eyed man yelped when Gin strode in the bathroom, claiming he didn't know it was occupied... despite of knowing it was, and just who exactly occupied it.

How he tricked Shiro into drinking _Bloody Mary,_ Harry's version – because the ex-Hollow pissed him off, Harry swore revenge, and so he dared Shiro to drink the stuff – which contained the strongest alcoholic liquid Gin had ever tasted – something Harry had called firewhisky, generously mixed with tomato sauce and tabasco along with _wasabi_ instead of horse radish. The idiot hollow accepted the dare, and downed the thing in one go – and then literally spitting fire, narrowly missing Ikkaku, but Yumichika's hair was collateral damage, much to the latter man's wailing laments, and everyone else's laughs.

Not that it stopped Shiro messing with Harry, but it did make Rukia interested in remaking the drink from hell, and prompting a chain of funny, embarrassing and weird incidents, which resulted in Byakuya forbidding her ever going into bartending... but in secret, he closed his eyes when she tried her drinks on Grimmjow and Renji.

In fact, Harry was the one who literally yanked Gin from his funk after the war with Aizen. Gin's status of double agent may have had cleared his name, but Seiretei was still wary to trust him, so they kicked him to the living world, with gigai and guarding dogs in the shape of Ichigo, Shiro and occasional accompaniment from eleventh division.

Since he had been with Harry, Gin had done crazy things. He smiled at the memories.

Ah, those were the times...

But, did he regret them?

No. Not a single one.

Inhaling deeply, he turned around, and determinedly began marching to the student campus.

If he lost Harry, it wouldn't be because of his cowardice... no way, no how.

Time for plan B...

* * *

 _If I'm crazy then it's true_  
That it's all because of you  
And you wouldn't want me any other way  


Growling, Harry glared at the light orange wall. Usually, the walls would be white, but Gin, in his true fox-brained scheming, somehow managed to convince Harry to paint the whole apartment, and well... one of Gin's favourite colours was the colour of ripe persimmon. At least it wasn't fluorescent orange...Harry sighed.

Gin still wasn't back, and he was beginning to get concerned.

And _yes,_ he did miss the annoyance.

Closing eyes, Harry thought about his... _friend..._ again.

Gin was unusual. Better, Gin was crazy, batshit insane, and if he were sorted, Harry would cheerfully bet his entire fortune and virgin cherry that Gin would be ultimate Slytherin.

Harry may have won some arguments with the fox-faced bastard, but said bastard always found a way out... most of the time.

True, he was creepy. His war comrades didn't think much of it, because they had seen worse, and they were curiously desensitized to what Gin termed reiatsu. Although they did admit they felt uncomfortable if they were alone with Gin, and that Harry somehow... mellowed the man out.

To Harry, Gin was happy, if on the moments sadistic but always reliable friend and roommate. True, they did have their disagreements, and he did see Gin angry, but Gin always took care not to hurt him... too much.

Gin... understood him. When his friends became too overbearing, Gin was the one who herded them out, with garnet red eyes and some well – chosen words. When Rita Skeeter tried to spy on him, the beetle bitch was in for a rude surprise – Gin didn't say what he had done to the nosy reporter, but suffice to say, Harry had peace from her nasty writings.

And when he thought about it, that mistletoe kiss with Gin wasn't so bad, after all.

In fact... Harry licked his suddenly dry lips, as he gulped down the saliva –

\- He wouldn't mind to try it again.

But one thing was his curiosity, and another was entering a ... _relationship._

And with Harry, being a true blue virgin, he had jitters. First class ones.

As one famous prince of Denmark once said – _'To be or not to be?'_

Or, in Harry's case – To have enough of _cojones_ to jump into the unknown with dating Gin, or...?

One dark eyebrow twitched.

Okay, the pros were all good. Now, for the cons.

Gin was sadistic, rude jackass who delighted in tormenting people, whether in verbal on practical way. And most of the time, Harry got the brunt of attacks. Gin was a little bit more merciful with him, but that didn't mean Gin's little, innocent jokes were all that.

Not that Harry was trigger – happy maniac, but with Gin in the same room, he came scarily close to it.

He still remembered one evening, when he was having a party with his study colleagues.

He naively thought he was safe from Gin, but the sadistic little bastard just had to surprise him, and with Harry still being high-strung from the war, the wizard grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on – unfortunately, it was a heavy crystal vase, and hurled it, full – speed, to the source of the sound he perceived to be a precursor of danger.

It knocked Gin clearly out, and shattered... which didn't endear him to his hostess much. But in his defence – just why did Gin have to say _Avada Kedavra?_

To be truthful, Gin only managed to get out _"Av - !"_ before Harry's reflexes snapped into action, but Harry had learned the hard way that firing first and asking later was much preferred method, while dealing with Death Chowders... and well, Gin was collateral damage. And vase was shattered, too...

Later, Harry had found out that Gin just joked, but if anyone, the joke was on him, because Gin was walking around the campus for whole week, with his left eye in pretty black colour.

So... dealing with Gin for the indefinite amount of time...?

Could he manage that?

Would he?

Both of them had secrets, and Harry had a hunch Gin's secrets trumped his by a large margin.

Was he still willing to trust Gin - and mostly, himself, to work everything out in their favour?

Imaging the Weasley Christmas, and Gin in the ring of redheads, causing chaos and mayhem made Harry chuckle.

He just knew that the twins would be excited about Gin. Hermione... well, Gin was a genius, even if he didn't flaunt his knowledge openly, but he could give the Gryffindor resident bookworm a run for her money.

He was curious about Fleur's reactions, and if he knew Mrs Weasley, Gin would be enveloped ion one of her bear hugs soon enough.

His smile fell at remembering Ginny.

Ginny...was the sore point of his acquaintance with Weasleys.

As the only girl, she was... how should he say it... _Sheltered._

Even if she was magically strong, she wasn't powerful. Not like Harry was.

For a short time, Harry had thought that she was the one, but with war around, his decisions had been made on a more skewered perspective. True, she became more mature, after the debacle with Riddle's diary, but with her eyeing him like a prime steak, when he was in his sixth year...

Harry shuddered. She was pretty... in a coltish kind of way. But women didn't do anything for him. Cho unintentionally proved him that, and Gin, along with Mark further affirmed that fact.

He just... didn't click with them well.

Not like with Gin.

Harry groaned.

Oh, he was _so_ screwed.

Literally and figuratively.

Helplessly, he chuckled. The chuckles became louder, until they changed into laughter, and finally, Harry cried.

* * *

 _You may be right_  
I may be crazy  
But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for

Gin would deny to his dying day that he crept into their apartment.

He would always say he came in with all the guns blazing; ready, willing and able to snatch Harry up to do away with some very perverted things.

But the sad, sad truth was, Gin crept into the apartment. Even if his steps were determined, he almost chickened out at the last few ones.

"Harry?" He poked his head into their bedroom tentatively, expecting all to know silhouette being curled on the bed, sleeping away the shocking confession Gin had stumped him with two hours prior.

Nothing. _Nada._

Harry's shoes were in their usual place, though.

Meaning, Harry was home.

Gin swallowed a ball of dread in his throat.

For all his bravery, he would rather face with Aizen – teme right now, than look Harry into his green eyes – but Gin never was coward.

Well, yes, he _WAS_ a coward, but this was too important to flub it out.

So he gathered his courage and tiptoed off to the next doors... to the living room.

"Um... Harry?" he asked, his voice sounding curiously meek even to his own ears.

There, on the leather couch, was the one person that had the power to make or break his heart...

Dark head shoot up, and Gin had to hold back a flinch at seeing those reddened eyes.

Harry had been crying.

The knowledge punched him into a gut like a sledgehammer.

"Gin." The youth acknowledged him softly. Then, Harry tilted his head on the side. "Won't you come in?" He asked, curiously calmly for someone who received the shocking knowledge that his friend was head over heels in love with them.

Gin gulped. He wanted to joke - ask if it was safe to enter, but he felt that this was neither place, nor time for the cheesy jokes and pulling legs.

So he slowly came into the room, behaving as if he were led to his own execution.

He may as well be...

"Sit down." Harry patted the spot on the couch. "It seems that we need to talk."

"Do we really have to?" Gin didn't want to, but the question came out like some kind of a pathetic whine.

Harry's face was expressionless.

And Gin was scared shitless.

Harry was not serious very often, but when he was... oh boy, then you'd better run for hills and mountains.

"I'm sorry!" He blurted out.

Harry blinked. "You're sorry?" he asked slowly, making Gin cringe.

"I - I shouldn't have told you that!" Gin fumbled again, practically shaking in his non-existent boots as he cautiously sat himself near enough to Harry, but far away enough to be considered as him being removed from the temptation.

Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "You are sorry for wanting to date me?" He asked, incredulous, and if Gin heard right, his voice sounded a little pissed off.

And that, in turn, made Gin pissed off as well.

"I am trying to apologize here, you dipshit!" Gin snarled out, annoyed. "Firstly, _no_ , I am _not_ sorry about wanting to date you, but I am _fed up_ with you blindly traipsing around and looking for your one true love as it were!"

Garnet red eyes stared into emerald green ones, as the two practically got into each other's faces.

"As it we - !" Harry was speechless with fury. "Yes. " Gin deadpanned. "As. It. _Were_. Because like it or not, from now on, you're stuck with me."

The snarl on Harry's lips didn't do much to distract Gin from his original mission – well, it did, a little, but –

"Listen, you fucking _lunatic_ – "Harry managed to growl out. "I don't know _who_ you think you are, but if you are looking for a serious ass-kicking, I could happily oblige your wish and send you to sniff out what Death's snuffle box looks like – close and personal."

At that threat, Gin couldn't help but bark out laughter of amusement. "You can _try,_ darlin'," He smiled his trademark grin. "You wouldn't be the first, an' you wouldn't be the last."

Harry's eyes widened, and Gin practically scented his nervousness.

"Now, I have one question for you." Harry watched him warily, as if here a predator, intent on devouring him.

Well, yes, Gin did intend to do something familiar although he intended to use more... pleasurable variant.

"Y – Yes?" Harry managed to squeak out.

Instead of verbal question. The wizard got a face – or mouthful of Gin.

Gin... kissed him.

_That sneaky fox!_

At first, Harry was too surprised to react, but when Gin began to persuade him with licking his lips, he couldn't help but moan and let Gin in.

Somehow, Gin pushed him onto the couch, with Harry's arms ending wound around the silver – haired man's neck.

When they separated for air, Gin looked at the man under him with the mixture of confidence and nervousness. He didn't want to be kneeled into the balls after all.

When he had done that once before, in a jest – alright, it was on Shiro's dare, he ended curled into a whimpering little ball on the floor, with Harry threatening him with dismemberment and Shiro practically howling with laughter, while Ichigo looked faintly green in the face with empathetic pains.

But now, Harry under him looked... dazed, speechless and thoroughly ravished. When the green – eyed man opened his mouth, Gin quickly silenced him with a finger on that saliva – moistened lips.

"Harry... May I be your lunatic?" He asked, with a small, shy grin curled on his face, and his cheeks blushing.

Those lips under his fingertips quivered, and then stretched into a smile, and Harry exhaled a breathy chuckle.

The chuckle morphed into a laugh, and something within Gin unknotted at the happy sound.

"My lunatic? Sure, why not."

Green eyes sparkled mischievously as Gin was tugged into another one of those dizzying kisses, not that he minded.

* * *

 _It's too late to fight_  
It's too late to change me  
You may be wrong for all I know  
But you may be right

Harry had to exhale. Slowly. Seeing your boyfriend practically leap out of his body and ... fight those... Hollows... would to that to you.

His left eyebrow twitched.

"Did you know about Ichimaru's... _activities?"_ He asked the small black cat with golden eyes calmly.

The said cat looked at the green – eyed man nervously. "Uh... Yes?" It squeaked out with a male voice which was elevated with trepidation. Harry was known to have a temper, after all.

But the man only nodded. "Thank you for info, Yoruichi." He muttered to the cringing cat. "I should've expected something that from him, but right now, I should contact the dumbasses they call themselves Ministry of Magic. You coming?" He motioned to the cat, whose golden eyes were practically bugging out of her skull at the information Harry had just haphazardly thrown at her.

"Y – Yes." The cat squeaked. "But what about Gin?"

Harry growled. It was a growl of absolute fury, and Yoruichi knew, that one Gin Ichimaru was in deep, deep shit with his boyfriend.

"The lunatic will be just fine. But after I will be done with him...it's debatable."

The fond smile Harry's face absolutely stumped the black cat.

"You... alright with him? That he kept such secrets from you?" Yoruichi asked tentatively, her whiskers twitching.

Harry gave her a long – suffering look. "Story of my life."

Yoruichi perked up. "That I've gotta hear."

* * *

 _You may be right_  
I may be crazy  
But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for

Gin smiled his grin – No. He tried to smile. Honest to God, he tried, but it seemed that it didn't work out as he wished to.

"Damn it." He pouted at the mirror. They – he and Harry – were invited for customary Weasley Christmas, and someone kindly remarked that Gin ought to learn how to smile.

His grins, the said person pointed out, were just creepy. So if please, please, would Gin learn how to smile, so that not all of the guest would be spooked out?

There was a knock on the bathroom door, making Gin jump a little.

"Gin?" Harry called out. "Are you alright?"

Gin groaned. "Yeah." He called back. "What do you want?"

"We have to go," Harry explained. "You ready yet?" The green – eyed man frowned in confusion as he heard some puttering in the bathroom.

Seriously, Gin was behaving weirdly.

And that was worrying, what with Gin already behaving out of whack as it were.

Sighing, he looked at the clock at the wall. His eyes widened. "Gin, if you don't get out in five minutes, we will be late!" He called at the bathroom door, while striding into the living room.

A moment later, Gin followed him.

* * *

Harry stared. Something was wrong with Gin, and he didn't know what. The Weasleys accepted the with all of their usual noise and boisterous teasing. Gin was... behaving, for once, which was strange, but not enough to warrant any true concern.

"Hermione. I think something is wrong with Gin." He called to his pseudo – sister.

Honey – brown eyes widened. "What? I think Ginny is alright." Still the bushy – haired witch looked at the youngest Weasley girl like a hawk would at his prey.

Harry huffed with exasperation. "Not Ginny, 'Mione." He corrected her. " _Gin._ My boyfriend."

Hermione blinked owlishly. "Oh. Right." She turned to look at him.

"Does he always grin so... weirdly?" She asked, cocking her head on the side inquiringly.

Harry blinked. "Gin is always grinning. " He answered promptly. "Well, almost always. Why?"

Hermione's lips twitched, as she nodded at the talked about man, who was right now grinning at frustrated Ron. They were playing chess, and much to Ron's frustration, Gin had, once again, got him into check – and that was their fifth game. The previous four, Gin had won with ease.

"Look at him," She murmured, chuckling. "Notice anything?"

Harry huffed. "Nothin – _huh?_ " He stared at Gin.

He groaned when he found out what exactly had been bugging him about Gin's appearance.

"Excuse me," He said to snickering Hermione flatly. "I think I've got a Cheshire cat to teach a lesson."

He marched off to the desk, grabbing Gin for the collar of his pullover and yanking him out of the chair, much to Gin's yelped out protest and witnesses amusement.

* * *

"What is _wrong_ with you, Gin?" Harry rounded on his boyfriend of three months. Gin's grin vanished. "Is my smile not good enough?" He asked flatly.

Harry blinked. "Not good _enou_ – What the _fuck_ are you talking about?"

The silver – haired man fidgeted. "Uh... Well, Rukia mentioned that my grins are scary, and I trained to be able to smile nicely..." He trailed off, looking away from gaping Harry.

Harry had to collect all his wits about not to burst out laughing or storming off to paddle some Kuchiki brat's idiotic ass. "She was wrong," He told Gin quite firmly, making the eyes open and those garner eyes looking down at him hopefully. "Really?" Gin whispered out. "But I wanted you to be proud of me – "

Harry silenced him with a kiss. After they came back up for air, the green – eyed man gently shook him. "I like _your_ grins, Gin." He told him seriously, the ends of his mouth twitching slightly with amusement. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

And Gin smiled a small, but true smile. But then, groaned. "But why did I fail my lessons in smiling, then?" He whined out.

Harry paused. A proverbial light bulb went off in his brain. "So _THAT_ was what you were doing in the bathroom each night!" He exclaimed, his brain temporarily fried with the revelation.

Gin nodded sulkily. "When we got back...I hope Abarai is prepared to bury his girlfriend... _Ten. Feet. Under,_ " He growled out petulantly, making Harry howl with laughter.

"You really are a fucking lunatic, aren't you?" Harry managed to choke out, wiping the tears of mirth off of his eyes.

Grin only grinned wider.

"That's _your_ lunatic, darlin'." He nodded self – importantly, prompting Harry into a new burst of laughter.

* * *

 _Turn out the light_  
Don't try to save me  
You may be wrong for all I know  
You may be right  
You may be wrong but you may be right 

They had fairly...interesting life. It was full of fun, happiness, weirdoes – be that dead, technically dead or alive ones, but it was theirs, and that was it.

Harry had gotten to know Ichigo's other friends – Ishida married Orihime, Ichigo had love – hate relationship with Shiro and Grimmjow – Gin was particularly proud of that pairing, messed up as it was. Zaraki and eleventh division were still as crazy as ever, and Rukia decided to jump into the marriage with Renji, much to Byakuya's chagrin, but it couldn't be helped. Chad had married Becks, the lively girl with red and yellow cornrows, and they got triplets – two girls and one boy, who all grew up hearing stories about his Uncles - be it Uncle Ishida, Ken-chan or Kitty-chan – Grimmjow still bemoaned his nickname, but one look from the little girl's puppy dog eyes, and he conceded. Thad didn't mean he didn't trash those who teased him.

Hermione, surprisingly became Mrs Coyote Starrk – apparently the Primera Espada had gotten over his fascination with Harry, and decided to tie the knot with the brainy witch. Not that it saved him from being whipped, anyway. They had twins, a girl and a boy –girl took after her mother, while the boy sadly got his father's characteristic laziness.

The Weasleys were rambutincuous bunch, as ever. Ron had gone one and became coach and later owner of Chudley Cannons, who had, in the time of his coaching, an uninterrupted streak of wins. He never did marry, although he had something of off and on relationship with Lavender Brown. Ginny married Terry Boot. The twins enjoyed their free style of life, occasionally terrorising Grimmjow and Shiro... and those two returned the pranks in spades.

Sighing, Harry closed his eyes. Yes, his had been hard, but it had also blessed him with good friends and a spouse who wasn't exactly his ideal choice, but...

He smiled at Gin's inquiring look.

"Ready for the next great adventure?" Gin asked, smiling his familiar grin as he stretched out his arm to Harry. He was clothed in Shinigami uniform, and Harry had to marvel at how youthful, and yet powerful his appearance was. Nobody could think that his lovable lunatic of ninety years was one of most powerful among angels of death. His lips quirked as he imagined Gin with wings.

He failed. Laughing softly, green eyes looked at the Reaper lovingly.

"Lead on, you crazy lunatic," Harry teased the reaper, prompting Gin to chuckle with fond memories of those wild times.

" _Your_ lunatic." He answered gently, as he touched Harry's wrinkled out arm, feeling for the spiritual threads and gently separated the soul from the body.

He gasped as he saw Harry's form. The silver – haired man had gotten used of seeing his lover as old man – wrinkled out face, steel gray hair weakened body, but in front of him, there was Harry as he had been at the peak of his youth - a slender man with vivid green eyes and long black hair tied up in half – ponytail and clothed in black and green battle robes.

"Like it?" Harry teased him; a mirthful twinkle in his eyes at Gin's vacated expression.

He poked Gin's forehead gently. "I know you had a fetish for seeing me in uniform, but really, Gin – " He teased, before yelping as Gin harshly tugged him into a passionate kiss.

Garnet red eyes blazed with desire, and Harry couldn't help a shiver of arousal that skittered down his spine.

Absentmindedly, Gin opened _Senkaimon_ with his blade. "You have ten seconds of start."

Yelping, Harry tore himself out of his lover's embrace and dashed to the light.

He looked forward to the next great adventure... that would begin in exactly ten seconds.

_**/The End/** _


End file.
